It can wait
by RedSnow1
Summary: Tina learns about Newt's father's death and decides to comfort him the best she can /OS/


**Hey guys ! Me again, hello !**

 **This story was based on a prompt my friend gave me : it turned it into fluff for obvious reasons. The prompt was "Write a complicated relationship between your character and one of his parents" so here it is :)**

 **I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it !**

 **Quick reminder : I am French and therefore, this story might have some mistakes. They are all mine, and I am sorry if that bothers you. I do try my best :)**

 **Enjoy and tell me what you thought about it :)**

* * *

She found him exactly where she thought he would be. He had told her about this particular spot in one of his letters and from the way he talked about it, she had understood that it had become his safe place. She smiled, shyly. It surprised her, sometimes, to realise how much she knew that man she had spent so little time with, how much she understood him. Queenie would have probably said something cheesy about that— but Queenie wasn't here to read her thoughts anymore. Tina shrugged, trying to get rid of unhappy memories. She wasn't here to mourn her sister. She was here for Newt.

 _Newt._

It hadn't exactly been easy between the two of them lately. Between the letter, the article, Paris, Grindelwald… They had stayed together for a few weeks after the tragedy, finding it easier to stick together, and take care of each others. Kama had left first, followed by Nagini, Theseus and Jacob. It had been just the two of them for a few days and then... Then, they had parted in better terms and promised to write to each others, until they were reunited again. Her life was in New York, his in London. He kept his promise this time. They wrote to each others every weeks, keeping the other updated on their state of mind and worries.

It had been nice to have someone to talk to, now that she was all alone in that apartment too large for her.

Tina stepped closer, admiring how peaceful he seemed, laying still in the grass, faced turned towards the sky. A soft breeze was sweeping across his dishevelled hair as his eyes stayed focused on the stars above him. His breath seemed steady, his eyes dry. He was wearing a simple white shirt and brown trousers with suspenders. He had forgotten his usual bowtie, but she couldn't blame him : it wasn't the most practical clothe when you have to take care of magical beasts.

He was surrounded by sleepy Mooncalves, and had, on his chest, the most adorable baby calf she had ever seen. His hand stroked the wool with tenderness and somehow, the Auror knew that it was as soothing for the beasts as for him.

She hesitated to come forward, not willing to startle him, or wake his creatures. She imagined it had taken him a great time to put them to sleep and wanted to respect his work. Besides, truth to be told, she still wasn't sure she had made the right decision. She had decided to make the trip last minute, had barely taken a few days off work before booking tickets for a boat. The trip had been tedious and long, each minutes passing bringing her closer to the moment she feared. After everything… Maybe he wouldn't want to see her ? Wouldn't find comfort in her presence ? But she had been pushed by this incredible need to see him, to make sure that he was all right, all things considered. Newt had been there for her when she — when she lost Queenie. He had held her hand when she thought she was too weak to stand up and fight, had bore her anger, had taken care of her, making sure she slept and ate. When she thought she had nothing left in this world, he had been by her side, proving her wrong, as he always did. She simply wanted to return the favour. Besides, she knew that he would be facing this situation alone. She just couldn't let that happen.

"I heard you come." He said, simply, not even turning to see her. His voice was dull, not conveying any emotions. It wasn't like him. "I wasn't sure it was you, but somehow, I was hoping it would."

Tina allowed herself to smile, shyly. She took a few steps forward and carefully sat next to him, trusting he would tell her if it bothered him. He didn't seem to mind, he just laid there, motionless, lost in a dark ocean of lights. She looked up at well, in silence, admiring all the work he had put to create this atmosphere. Newt was an artist : his case was his life's work. Every single details, every little pebbles and strands of grass had been carefully calculated : it was beautiful. Utterly — undescriptively beautiful.

They remained in silence for a while, both of them appreciating each other's presences, the warmth of their bodies so close, and yet so far. She hadn't pictured their reunion that way : she had wanted it to be soft and filled with happy tears. Universe seemed to bring them closer over death and destruction : how was she supposed to build something if the world wanted nothing but to tear them apart ?

"I am so sorry about your father, Newt." She suddenly whispered, studying his features as she spoke. He didn't flinch, but listened carefully. "I sailed here as fast as I could when I heard the news." Tina admitted, her cheeks burning, unsure of what to say next. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay — that you had someone to look after you."

The magizoologist weakly smiled, and her heart fluttered. He was beautiful in his sorrow, face beamed in the moonlight. It reminded her of that night, when they had first met, and had scouted the City to find Dougal, his Demiguise. He had smiled, and her world had crumbled into pieces. It was one of their first talk, really. The moment she realised she had misjudged him. He was still the same eccentric British outlaw she had met, the same man that made her heart beat faster. She shivered and wrapped herself in her long coat, her arms across her chest to protect the heart that had been broken too many times before.

"Theseus is coming tomorrow." He stated, simply. Her face shut down. Maybe he didn't need her after all. Had she come all the way here for nothing ? Tina bit her lips, worrying. Then, suddenly, he turned his head to face her, as if he felt her anxious thoughts. For the first time since she arrived, he held her gaze, finally daring to plunge into her eyes : they looked like salamanders he had said. And it was maybe, the most romantic thing she had been told. "But — I am glad you are here, Tina." He warmly said, cracking into a smile. His hand moved towards hers, she noticed, but stopped before their fingers touched. She wanted to reach out for him, to feel their burning skins against each others. She shook her head silently. It was too forward and besides, Newt didn't really enjoyed proximity. He suddenly frowned, his eyes suddenly filled with pain. "I was hoping—" He tried, and took a long breath. 'I was hoping I could — there is something I wish to tell you — I've been meaning to tell you for a while now…"

The american auror gasped, aware of where this would lead them. She wanted to make him stop somehow, before he said something he would regret. He had just lost his father, and the grief he was feeling probably altered his judgement. She wanted to tell him how meaningless it had all been, how this misunderstanding meant nothing to her. It wouldn't exactly be true : she had been deeply hurt. But right now, it didn't seem to matter anymore.

He had lost a part of his family. Tina knew too well how that feels like. After all this time, even in her darkest moments, she always had a thought for her parents, wherever they are. She often wondered if they would have been proud of her, proud of Queenie even. She had lead her life in an attempt to do so. But there was something she was quite sure of : They would had liked Newt. They would have been glad that she met such a wonderful man, a man that made her undoubtedly happy.

She sighed. He had lost his father. Their story could wait a little while longer.

"Words cannot express how sorry I am, Tina." He began anyway, obviously not aware of her disapproving frown. His voice was trembling, weak, filled with unsaid regrets and such pain. Her eyes watered at the sight of his green orbs, shining in the dark, genuinely sheepish. "Talking about your job that way — I shouldn't have done that." He sighed, and cleared his throat. He had avoided her gaze, and she knew exactly what that meant. Her heart clenched painfully as she bit her lower lip in anticipation. "I have hurt you — and I can't forgive myself for it —" He said, and a tear escaped from her weary eyes. She was glad he wasn't looking at her right now, glad he hadn't caught the impact that his words had on her. "And losing — losing my father makes me realise how close I was to losing you." Newt whispered earnestly. She had closed her eyes, trying to hold back the salty pearls she had never meant to spill, not willing to admit, even to herself, how much she was moved by his apology. She stood still, and let the man's confession linger in the air, in her ears, making its way through her heart. He took a moment to collect himself, his eyes still staring at the stars above them, looking out over their proximate bodies and very carefully closed the gap between their hands, laying between their bodies. She shivered, startled by his sudden touch. She had forgotten how it felt like to be touched that way, had forgotten how his calloused hands were soft and warm, how his touch was light against her skin, much like a feather lingering on her palm. Her heart was beating so fast she could almost hear it bumping against her chest, trying to find the person it truly belonged to : Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, British Magizoologist. He laced their fingers together, softly, obviously unsure. She allowed this intimate yet very shy embrace with a teary smile he never saw. "I would never want that — losing you, I mean." He continued, his voice breaking, and if she had been strong enough to face him, she would have seen the tears streaming down his freckled face. "So here, what I am trying to say is that — I am so very sorry. About everything. I would have told you sooner — I wanted to but —"

The brunette squeezed his hands tighter, making his babbling stop at last. It had been too much for the both of them. Besides, she didn't want him to feel guilty for something he ignored. How could he have known what Spellbound had written about him and Leta ? Porpentina couldn't exactly picture him reading every single gossips uttered about himself, he who was so shy and oblivious. The blame was for the both of them. He was guilty of not weighing his words enough, but she was culpable of so much worst.

She hadn't trust him.

Or maybe herself ?

He had left her on the docks with hopeful dreams and joyous thoughts. The wizard had shown how much he cared about her, had made her understand that this… whatever this was between them wasn't one-sided. Through their correspondence, she had been left wondering why such an amazing man living those incredible adventures would be interested in her. Why her ? She was plain, simple, and had a job he disapproved of, that he made it clear. Why could he possibly see in her, she didn't get. And when that article came out, when she saw that picture of them, she had found the answer to her question. It wasn't her that he loved, it had always been Leta. Leta who was so utterly beautiful, graceful. Leta who had grown up with him, and who, perhaps, was everything she wasn't.

The auror had been wrong all along. He had never stopped thinking about her : he made her understand that when he showed her the picture he had been carrying in his breast pocket for a year.

It wasn't him she didn't trust. It was herself.

"Newt… I should be the one apologising for my behaviour." She weakly admitted. The british wizard turned his face towards her, surprised. She didn't bother hiding her wet cheeks and puffy eyes : he had seen her cry before. Multiple times. He had held her sobbing body between his arms, had pulled out wet strands out of her face. He had soothed her days and nights after Grindelwald's rally : he hadn't seemed to mind. "I — I was horrible to you. I chose to believe this stupid article while I should have asked you. I was hurt, and made you suffer." Tina sighed, remembering how pained he seemed, when they were in Paris, how hard he tried to make her understand that none of what she believed was true. She had been hard on him, trying to protect herself while he clearly never meant any harm. She had refused to hear what he had to say, had ran away from him. Tina never wanted to hurt him : she just wanted him to understand the consequences of his actions. "But you should know…You should know that... You won't lose me. You won't. I am your — I am your friend." She hesitated. Their relationship wasn't clear, especially after that day, at the French Ministry of Magic. But they cared about each others, deeply. Deeply enough for him to break the law and find her in Paris. Deeply enough for her to ditch work in order to be there after his father's death. It didn't matter whether they had romantic feelings towards each others - she knew she had - : They were here and now. They were Tina and Newt. It was all that mattered. " And I will stay by your side for as long as you need me. I am here. Not going anywhere."

He smiled, shyly, before letting her hand go tearfully. She shivered, already missing the warmth of his touch, the intimacy of this moment. He suddenly arose to a sitting position, both of his hands steady on the ground, as he admired, from the highest point of his case, his sleeping creatures. The auror followed him in his movement, still by his side. Only, she didn't mind his beasts : all she cared about was him.

"You — You are quite remarkable Mrs. Goldstein." He whispered, and her heart clenched violently in her chest. "I think my father would have liked you."

Tina smiled softly, in the dark. She knew him well enough to know that it was his way of telling her he was ready to open up about what happened. His way to make her understand how much he trusted her. It was clumsy and so much like him, she couldn't help but feel endeared. She scooted closer to him carefully, knowing how uncomfortable he could get when people didn't respect his private space. He didn't flinch, not even a bit, staring at the Erumpant's enclosure as if it were the only thing he could hand on to. In his light eyes, danced several tears as his teeth sunk into his chapped lips.

"How was he like ? Your father ?" She murmured, hoping she hadn't mistaken the signs she had seen. He shook his head in silence as a silent pearl rolled on his cheek.

Porpentina Goldstein wanted to wipe it off his beautiful face : it seemed so out of place between his freckles. Her hand moved closer in an attempt to do so, and lingered a second in the air. She winced in hesitation. Would it be considered too forward of her ? Was that a proper way to handle a man's sorrow? She sighed, relieved to see he hadn't noticed her poor attempt in soothing him. Her hand fell back on the ground, next to his.

Newt took a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh, and turned his wet face towards hers.

"He was — He was — quite a man." He began, his voice shaking in his throat. "Strong. Severe. We didn't exactly get along." For some reasons, the brunette already knew that. She had read it between the lines when she had received his letter announcing the bad news, a few hours after she saw the article on the newspaper. "He was always so proud of my brother, being an auror and successful in life. Me… I was his black sheep. The son that didn't abide by the rules." Newt smiled sadly, his hand now resting on a scar on his arm, tracing it lightly with the tip of his fingers. "He did love me plenty, though. But all he ever saw in me was sheer disappointment." He finally admitted.

"He looked just like Theseus." Tina smiled upon hearing that familiar name. Remembering her first encounter with her friend's brother always seemed to enlighten her day. _I think that might have been the best moment of my life_. His tone. His smile. Their escape. So far, every time her path crossed a Scamander, it had always ended up bad (for them of course !) : she had arrested the youngest and had tied the eldest into a chair. Her mind couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had she met their father. 'I've — I've always taken more of my mother's side. But they were close — so close I was jealous. I just wanted him to —"

" — Support you ?" She finished for him, understanding his pain.

He nodded in agreement, and fell silent again. He was playing nervously with the grass beneath his palm, unsure of what to say or what to do. He seemed done talking about his father for now, and she didn't want to push him. He would come to her, should he need to, and she was well-aware of that fact. She more than anyone could understand his pain. Gently, Tina reached for his hand and took it again, much to his surprise. There was something she wanted to tell him - wanted him to know and she needed all of his attention.

"I think I would have liked to meet your father." She simply said. And it was the truth. He had been an important person in the life of the man she loved- the man she liked. He was important to her as well. Even more so. "Just so I could tell him what an amazing man he raised."

Newt opened his mouth, and closed it straight away, confused and touched.

He didn't respond for there was nothing to say : he only moved closer to her, their shoulders touching, entwined hands resting between both of their thighs. He moved closer she could almost rest her head on his steady shoulder if she wanted to. And she did. Maybe later, if the timing felt right, she would allow herself the pleasure of feeling his warmth against her cheeks.

He had just lost his father.

Their story would wait.

"I meant to ask — but I wasn't sure it was my place — May I come with you ? Tomorrow, at the funeral ? May I come with you?"

"You don't have to." She simply answered.

"No. I don't. But I want to. I want to be there for you, Newt. Please, let me be there for you?"

It sounded like a plea. And maybe it was. It was not one of her habits to beg, but this time it was different. This time it was Newt. She wanted to share his burden, him who had spent his time keeping everyone together in Paris. She wanted to help him carry the weight of the world because he was worth it. She would dry every tears, listen to his sorrow and try to whisk the pain away. She owed him that. She owed it to herself.

He laced their fingers together once more, and side by side, they stared at the starry night.

"Alright." He conceded.


End file.
